


angel at your doorstep

by jjokkiri



Series: 12 days of jjokkiristmas [11]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Child!Changkyun, Christmas Fluff, Fallen Angels, Fluff, Other, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjokkiri/pseuds/jjokkiri
Summary: Changkyun finds an angel sitting at his doorstep. His first thought is to ask if the man is Santa.





	angel at your doorstep

_“Hyung, are you Santa?”_ a soft, childish voice asked from behind where Minhyuk was knelt down on the ground, hand clutching the wound on his side, hand glowing as he tried to heal himself. He’d sworn that his large wings had been shielding him, but he supposed that it wouldn’t have shielded him from sight.

He hadn’t been expecting to be interrupted at this time of the night, regardless of the fact that he was on a human’s doorstep. The sound of the voice snapped him out of his concentration and he hissed, when the light emitting from his hand faded and the throbbing pain in his side returned.

The dark-haired fallen angel turned his head to look for the source of the voice. Wincing as he turned, Minhyuk’s eyes fell on a small boy standing beside him. The boy had dark, shaggy hair and a small form. He looked to be barely seven, and considering the inquiry, Minhyuk wouldn’t be surprised if he was any younger.

Taken aback, Minhyuk shook his head, slowly.

“No,” he replied, voice quiet and uncertain. “I’m not Santa. Santa is an elderly man, child.”

 _“Oh, right,”_ the boy said. Then, the boy peered at him, studying him with curiosity, “Then, what are you, hyung?”

Hesitant, Minhyuk moved his hand away from the injury on his side and focused his eyes onto the curious boy standing in front of him holding a soft plush toy in his arms. The child looked harmless, as every child was, but Minhyuk found himself a little taken aback by the boy’s talkative nature.

As a fallen angel, it had been too long since anyone had been willing to speak to him. There were rumours, when he was still in Heaven, that angels couldn’t be seen by humans. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was different, when an angel fell. But, despite being fallen, he still had his morals: his morals wouldn’t let him tell a child that he was a fallen angel. All fallen angels had a stigma to them—something that declared them as a ruined element of purity. He couldn’t admit something like that to a child.

But, his hesitance seemed to make the little boy speak in his place.

“Are you an angel, hyung?” the boy asked, eyes wide with curiosity. “You have really big wings, like the angels in the storybooks that mom reads to me at night.”

Minhyuk paused, before exhaling a soft response, “Yes, child. I’m an angel.”

And before he could feel the guilt lying about his identity, something else caught the little boy’s attention. The small boy gasped, hands raising to his mouth and covering it with the soft husky plush toy in his hands.

“Hyung, you’re bleeding! I should get you a band-aid!” the little boy said, pointing to where his hand was clutching at the bleeding wound on his side. The sudden outburst surprised him, but Minhyuk chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’re not going to find a band-aid big enough for this, child,” he replied. “It’s okay, I can heal myself.”

The boy blinked up at him, amazed at the revelation, “You can heal yourself? Do angels have magic, hyung? Can they do more than fly?”

Minhyuk pursed his lips, considering his response, “Perhaps, you could say that. Yes, angels have magic.”

Changkyun’s eyes practically sparkled and he clasped his hands together, pleased with the response.

_“That’s so cool, hyung.”_

The response had his lips curling into a pleasant smile—a genuine smile. He couldn’t recall the last time that he managed to smile at anything. At least, not since he’d fallen. Standing up, Minhyuk looked down at the boy.

“What’s your name, child?” he asked, voice soft.

“Changkyun,” the boy answered, eyes bright. It reminded Minhyuk of the purer souls back in Heaven—back in the place he used to call _‘home’_. “Mom says it means _‘making fairness’_.”

The boy nodded, proudly and Minhyuk cracked a small smile at the simple explanation of the more complex characters. It reminded him of the childish charm that his friends in Heaven used to have. Something about the child made his heart miss home, though his heart knew that he could never go back.

“That’s a nice name,” Minhyuk replied. The boy didn’t ask him for his name, but he supposed it didn’t matter—he didn’t need to know. It didn’t matter at all.

“Thank you, hyung,” Changkyun replied, beaming at him. There was nothing to say after that, and the little boy changed the topic, after a moment of silence.

“Why are your wings grey, hyung?” Changkyun asked, tilting his head and hugging the small plush toy in his hands to his chest, squeezing it gently. “Aren’t angel wings white?”

Minhyuk hesitated, thinking for a moment before he answered. He couldn’t possibly tell a child that he was a fallen angel—he couldn’t possibility destroy the soft, pure, naivety of childhood with the revelation that sins existed; the revelation that the world wasn’t filled with only good things.

“I must have gotten them dirty,” he replied, exhaling a soft laugh. His breath left his mouth with a puff of smoke.

Changkyun nodded his head, as if the vague explanation was enough to give him full understanding. “Sometimes, dad yells at me for playing in the backyard and getting mud all over my hands. And then, he says that I can’t play with my toys until I take a bath. You should wash your wings, hyung.”

Minhyuk chuckled. _Childish innocence._

“I’ll make sure to remember to do that,” he told him. _But, no matter what he did, his wings would never return to their original colour._ Changkyun didn’t need to know that. “I’ll wash my wings before I go out and play.”

Changkyun smiled at him, but his heart panged with an indescribable pain— _guilt_.

Avoiding the child’s innocently gleaming eyes, Minhyuk averted his eyes. Glancing at the moon hanging in the sky, Minhyuk could feel the pain in his side returning. He pulled the long, black coat around his body closer to himself and he looked back at Changkyun. The small boy spoke before he could, again.

“Why are you looking at the sky, hyung? Do you have to go, now, hyung?” he asked, curiously. Changkyun’s eyes glimmered underneath the moonlight and a part of Minhyuk’s heart hurt—an innocent child was speaking to a fallen angel who didn’t have a choice but to feed him with lies. The dark-haired angel nodded his head, solemnly.

“I’ve been gone for too long,” he replied. “Perhaps, I should head back, now.”

“They’ll miss you back at home,” Changkyun told him, suddenly. Minhyuk looked at him, surprised. Changkyun flashed him a toothy smile, and he noticed that the little boy was missing one of his front teeth. “When dad goes on long trips for work, mom and I miss him a lot. So, your family in Heaven probably misses you, too, hyung.”

Minhyuk was certain that Heaven wouldn’t miss one of their fallen angels, but the child’s words still somehow brought warmth to his heart. The fallen angel’s lips tugged into a small smile.

“Then, I should get going,” he said, “Shouldn’t I?”

Changkyun nodded, his hair flopping into his eyes.

“It was really nice to talk to you, hyung. You need to be careful and be safe on your way back to Heaven, hyung,” Changkyun told him, hugging the small husky to his chest and leaning against his front door with a small smile on his lips. “It’s cold, and you don’t want to freeze your wings.”

Minhyuk nodded his head, lips tugging into a small, fond smile at the child.

Then, a gentle hand placed itself onto Changkyun’s head. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of the boy’s head and Changkyun peered up at him, curiously. Minhyuk looked back down at him, eyes hiding his sadness. A child couldn’t see the meaning behind the way his eyes glistened with sorrow.

“Before I leave, can you make me a promise, child?” he asked.

Changkyun nodded his head, smile bright, “Of course, hyung!”

“Promise me that when you grow up,” Minhyuk said, softly, “That you’ll be kind to everyone you meet. Promise that you’ll be a good person and go to Heaven, when your work on Earth is done.”

A child would never understand what they were promising, but Changkyun seemed to grasp a fraction of the meaning that Minhyuk intended for his words to have. He would never know the full truth, but it was enough for Minhyuk to know that it was enough for the child to make him the promise.

Changkyun peered up at him, eyes innocently gleaming with curiosity, “Will I meet you again in Heaven, hyung?”

Minhyuk’s lips pulled into a bittersweet smile and he nodded his head, the guilt gnawing at him for lying to a child.

_“Of course.”_


End file.
